OBSERVATION FROM AN OLD NOTEBOOK
the universe opens accepting my homecoming sky races by
white-rimmed waves crawl reluctantly shore ward moody city skyline rebuffs shafts of sunshine cloud confusion
last night the winter world transformed to summer’s sphere fireflies in the night their aimless paths alight
a cold moon filters down through the purple asters no explorers have returned with caterpillar robes and dandelion gold
a cookbook is a strange place to find a recipe for the mind but the notes tell me the lemon tr… blooms year ‘round, never stops; while one branch sweetens the air
Snowflakes or fireflies Beneath an oval moon Do I wake or dream?
In the universe Of winking stars is there one Who also wonders?
sunlight through the clouds in a ring of bright water loons fish two by two
Pappa always told me that you should never tell all you… and I found it to be good advice I recall the time I got back from… with my winter stores back in ‘39
crickets and brittle leaves empty seed pods scurrying in the heavy scent of autumn
little lies, seeds of thyme shallow-rooted, often sewn cover the largest stone yet a tree springs from a single seed
it was always said that of all the people on the Island I loved life the best I who had the least but I had all I needed
wild rose bush crushed between the rocks so carelessly placed and yet there a soul looks out at me
summer is ending following the rolling sun quite without remorse
The taste of winter ice Dug in August from the sawdust Of Conley’s ice house The slap of the screen door On Grammy’s porch